


Candy Hearts & Tropey Starts

by Muze



Category: Sanditon (TV 2019), Sanditon - Jane Austen
Genre: All The Tropes, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Love Letters, M/M, Only happy endings allowed, Sanditon creative prompt challenge, married at first sight, rare pairs, warnings are in the specific chapters, yes some pairings are odd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:28:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22651789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muze/pseuds/Muze
Summary: 10th Feb: Forbidden Love (Georgiana/Otis)11th Feb: Miss You (Sidlotte)12th Feb: Enemies to Lovers (Clara/Edward)13th Feb: Hug Me (Georgiana/James Stringer)14th Feb: Arranged Marriage (Married at First Sight AU Babington/Esther, Charlotte/Sidney, Georgiana/Otis, Arthur/OC)
Relationships: Arthur Parker/Original Male Character, Charlotte Heywood/Sidney Parker, Clara Brereton/Edward Denham, Georgiana Lambe/ James Stringer, Georgiana Lambe/ Otis Molyneux, Lord Babington/Esther Denham
Comments: 7
Kudos: 50





	1. Forbidden Love

**Author's Note:**

> This is day one, stay tuned for the other days. The other days will be written fiction.  
> Do check everything on tumblr as well, my name is growingstronglikeahighgardenrose (yes I know, long ass name)
> 
> Also: I'm not the biggest fan of Otis but for the sake of rare pairs and naive forbidden romance. Future Otis on day 5 will get proper context.


	2. Day 2: Miss You

Rain drops on the window and dark clouds in the sky could fill even the most joyful spirit with melancholy. Focussing her gaze beyond the window, she watched the waves consume almost the entirety of the beach.

A lone seagull raked through the sky, fighting against the wind as he spread his wings towards the open sea.

In her mind, Charlotte travelled alongside the seagull, across foaming waves and whirpools, to a boat riding the streams with determination.

Her eyes slipped shut, imagining Sidney’s strong brow and handsome face grim with determination, one force of nature against the other.

Her fingers lifted towards the window, reaching forward as she imagined his wet face, the same as it had been the day she’d bumped into him at the cove.

As her fingertips bumped against the cold window. His face would be cold because of the rain and wind as well.

She missed him. The sight of him had always managed to fill her heart with a certain delight. She’d never really given attention to how her heart felt before falling in love, but now she was constantly aware of it. It was a sensitive organ, sometimes beating fast, and sometimes very slow. Sometimes she could even feel it stop, and sometimes she felt like it could simply explode with joy and love.

Right now she could distinguish the odd hollow feeling she usually only suffered in the dark at night, as she lay alone in her cold big bed. Those were the times the lack of him hit her the hardest.

Because she could recall with exact precision the way the bed dipped underneath his weight, and the way she curled against him to absorb his heat. Their bed had been their haven, the place where he felt most at ease to tell her how he felt. The place where he managed to drag the highest of highs out of Charlotte as she yielded to his touch.

In their room, there was only ever them. The outside world ,the silly world and society’s rules remained firmly at the door.

Perhaps that was why being alone in the room that embodied the heart of their house and relationship hurt more.

Her fingers slipped down the window.

Where was he right now? Was he thinking of her as well?

Her reverie was perturbed by a knock on the door.

‘Come in.’

‘You got a letter’, Georgiana smiled as she walked over to her.

‘It’s tea time by the way, you should come downstairs.’

Charlotte nodded with a smile.

‘After I read the letter.’

‘Don’t take too long. I want to take my tea with you and I loathe cold tea. Also, the cake is fresh out of the oven, and I prefer to eat it while it’s still hot.’

‘The longer you talk to me, the longer it’ll be before I come down’, Charlotte teased.

Georgiana rolled her eyes and walked away.

The letter was stained, with paler splotches here and there. Sea salt, Charlotte concluded. In need slanted writing in black pen stood her name. Her index finger trailed over the letters, halting at the blotched P of her surname.

He’d promised her he’d write to her each time they stopped somewhere.

And he had fulfilled that promise perfectly. She had a small chest with twenty envelopes in it right beside her bed, to reread when she got too lonely at night.

She quickly, but carefully, opened the letter.

_“To my dearest Admiral Charlotte 3/05/18—”_

Charlotte bit her lip. He’d taken to calling her a new term of endearment with every letter he wrote. It had been over half a year since he’d called her Admiral Heywood. The last time had been during the summer. Back when she’d first gotten to know him. How much had changed since then! But she would not forget the first time he ever called her that as they had their boat race with the children. She looked up to the ceiling as her breathing became unsteady. Gods, how she missed him!

She took a minute to take a deep breath and collect herself before continuing.

_“It is with no small amount of pleasure that I can announce my last letter. We’ve stopped in our final port for the travel. All our work is done. The next stop shall be London._

_In five days, I shall be home again. Nothing remarkable happened since the last letter. The weather was pleasant, and the sea was mostly calm. I have no reason to suspect a storm shall hit us during the last leg of our journey. We also don’t need to pass any traitorous streams or sandbanks. These are trusted waters, and there is no reason to fear. Though I doubt not you shall make up your own mind despite of what I think._

_After the amount of letters I’ve been obliged to send you, I’m afraid I’ve run out of things to say. Except perhaps a last and final thought I haven’t voiced to you yet. It’s been one and a half month since I’ve had to leave you because of business, which is almost half our marriage. The only other time I’ve missed you for longer than that, was during the dark months before our reconciliation. I wrongly assumed that knowing we were reunited forever now, despite some temporary distance, would lessen the sorrow of being parted from you. But as I now know you better than I have ever before, I have become keenly aware of exactly what I miss. Make no mistake, my life was worth nothing without you, but nothing could have prepared me for what I feel now._

_Charlotte, I miss you. I can’t wait to be back home. I’m counting down the days, and I’m not afraid to say my men shall suffer if Poseidon intervenes and prolongs my time away from you. Since I won’t stop at another shore, you can save all your colourful stories and ardent declarations of love for when you see me again. I’d rather you show me how much you missed me._

_If you missed me anywhere as much as I missed you, I know our reunion shall be even more spectacular than our wedding night._

_Affectionately yours,_

_Your second-in-command”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Sidney doesn't have anything to do with plantations anymore, but I gather he met Mr. Crowe and Lord Babington through work and is still away from home a lot. So he probably is doing something merchant-like still. And he needs it with all Tom's foolish plans. But now he's got a girl back home. -  
> Hope you enjoyed!


	3. Enemies to lovers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of abuse (and implied rape) in compliance with Clara's canon youth. Be aware.

Clara could still remember the day she arrived at Lady Denham’s. She’d been excited all day, twitching in her chair and looking out of the window as the landscape changed. Though the feeling was mixed with quiet dread. After all, she’d been here before.

She’d only spent eight years at home, and they hadn’t been the happiest. There’d been too many mouths to feed, too many bodies propped in the same small bedrooms to get a real good rest, and too little money for toys or books to entertain the children. And since they’d lived in the suburbs, there hadn’t really been outdoor space for them to explore and play.

At the age of eight, she’d been sent to live with a male relative and his wife who were yet to have children. She’d been so excited. The promise of more food, a nice bed and attention had filled her dreams for weeks. She’d barely been able to cry because she was so thrilled at the promise of a new life. She’d bounced out of the carriage and straight into the arms of her aunt and uncle. And for a year, all her dreams seemed to come true. Her aunt took to her with a lot of affection, and her uncle welcomed her each night to read on his lap or to show her things.

But everything had changed when her body started leaving childhood behind. Her uncle began giving her more attention. Insisted on receiving kisses on the cheek after reading time. It had been little things at first. But when her aunt got pregnant around the time she reached twelve, it wasn’t just the occasional kiss on the cheek or lingering hand as she sat on his lap anymore. The barrier between her aunt and her husband rose as her belly swelled, while her husband seemed to get closer and closer to the child they’d taken in.

Back then Clara had cursed her, as she fell asleep crying many a night, because she didn’t do something. But now at twenty-three Clara understood. Men like him had knew how to tie women to them by making them feel insecure and making them feel like they only did the things they did because of the women. She’d seen it many times during her life with her uncle, and had even seen it with her very own niece and nephew.

During her teenage years she quickly learned there were only two options for dependent people like herself: either play along perfectly and try to gain something by playing along, or take the moral high ground and risk ending up back where you started.

Everyone liked talking about morality and values, but when one had to choose between comfort or ending up sharing a bed with two other sisters in a bedroom filled with six children, Clara quickly decided that morality wasn’t what would get her far in life. And so she played the game until she reached the age of twenty.

It wasn’t luck, and it wasn’t by her own doing. Actually, it was a pure coincidence that after her uncle’s wife had managed to conceive five children, a nanny and a private tutor were hired, both being invited to live in with the family. The nanny, a young woman beneath her twenties with a shapely body and no qualms to sink to any level to get a better pay – further than Clara had ever gone – was well appreciated by her uncle and managed to slip past the wife’s notice. With five extra mouths and two permanent house guests, Clara became too much. So other family members were contacted, and Lady Denham, an old widow reverently talked about by her family, though scorned all the same because of her lack of financial support, offered to take on one of the Brereton girls as a companion. Some of Clara’s sisters had reached maturity as well, but since she’d been out of the house for twelve years, her parents decided she was the better child to send off. No one would miss her anymore, she’d already been gone so long.

And so she ended up going to Sanditon, hoping that life with an old widow would at least spare her of the depravities she had been involved with at her uncle’s house, and curious as to how the illustrious Lady Denham would actually be.

She had not been warned that two other relatives, those who were likely to inherit, were also living in Sanditon. The carriage dropped her in front of the imposing home. Far larger and magnificent than the town house of her uncle. She was escorted to the dining room by a butler, and was shown in, leaving her to stand awkwardly in front of an incredibly long dining table with three people sitting at the furthest end. A young man in the middle of his twenties, a young woman about her age, and a cold looking elderly woman at the top of the table.

‘So you’re the one they’ve decided to send off, hmph?’ the Lady asked.

Clara nodded, making an odd half bow since she didn’t quite know what was expected of her. The man huffed a laugh and the girl softly smirked in response to him.

‘Clara Brereton, Lady Denham’, she introduced herself. Given all she knew of her distant aunt, she decided it would be wise to treat her with as much reverence as possible. At worst, it was exactly the kind of respect she expected, at best she was flattered and would permit Clara to be a bit less formal.

‘Well, come a bit closer so I at least know what I got.’

Stepping closer, she could now see the faces of the people at the end of the table. The room had been comfortably warm, but the expressions of the three people gave her chills nonetheless. These were not the expressions of family members finally meeting another relative. They were cold, analysing and haughty. The girl looked insecure, but kept her eyebrows high in an attempt to come across as unbothered. The old woman was trying to read her history from her face, and the incredibly handsome young man was seizing her up like one might a prey. That was the moment Clara knew she had once again not fallen amongst friends. So she slipped into her schooled air of insecurity and pretended obliviousness.

‘No natural elegance I see, but that was hardly to be expected. Can you play cards?’

‘Yes, Lady Denham.’

‘Do you play any instruments?’

‘The piano, Lady Denham.’

The woman threw a telling look at her niece, who looked away in annoyance with red burning cheeks. It was only a small comfort that there was no kindness lost between the three family members either.

‘Well, at least your companionship will have some worth. I have a magnificent piano but some are just too lazy to learn. Maybe she can finally teach you Esther, hmm? You’ll never catch a man with so little money and so few accomplishments. Oh, get that expression off of your face child, your beauty is the only thing recommending you but with that expression not even a fool would have you.’

‘Perhaps a fool can make her smile’, the young man honed.

‘Oh do shut up, Edward’, the girl hissed.

Clara later learned that the girl was named Esther, and that brother and sister lived in Denham Place on the outskirts of town. It was a rundown mansion with a leaky roof, and there was a persistent draft in the hallway, but the two seemed perfectly happy there, and rarely came by unless invited.

Once, Clara had hoped she and the girl could become friends, since they both had to endure the constant critique and jokes at their expense. But she quickly learned Esther would endure the jokes and critique, and mimic the way she was treated in the way she treated Clara.

However, life in Sanditon was infinitely better than her previous life. Lady Denham was cold and demanding, but never inappropriate. And she was never treated inappropriately by anyone else either. Month after month, the tenseness slipped out of her shoulders. She’d learned to watch her back, to make sure she was never alone with a man and not followed. She’d learned to check the lock on her door twice, and dress quickly even in her own room. But there was no infringement of privacy. She was safe. And for a while, that was enough.

Lady Denham’s fortune was hers to do with as she pleased. She could add and scrap anyone in her testament. As time slipped by, she started to understand the tense family dynamics.

Really, she’d seen a lot during the time she spent at her uncle’s. He constantly invited people over, and as it was a city, there was always drama within his circle of friends and acquaintances. Clara had become very good at reading people, for people like her, life depended on being to read people and use that information to their own benefit.

She saw how Edward loathed his aunt, and tried to butter her up to get the money. She saw how Lady Denham knew that everyone in her family was after her support and inheritance, including Edward. Lady Denham knew just what kind of man Edward was, though she hadn’t heard the stories the laundry maids and kitchen wenches told – Clara had however – , and knew that he’d never do something out of the good of his own heart so she used the money to manipulate him. If he wanted her for her money, she would make him work for it.

Meanwhile Esther didn’t have the same tact as her brother while talking to her aunt, nor did she bother to perform, neither for her family nor for the outsiders. It seemed she was determined to be nice to no one but her stepbrother, and didn’t care to make new friends. And since both brother and sister feared for their inheritance, so they treated Clara coldly.

It had made sense for Esther to despise Clara. Her brother rarely directed a harsh comment towards Clara, her aunt was more satisfied by Clara’s behaviour, and she was a competitor for the inheritance. But it didn’t make sense that Esther kept all wealthier man at bay, and kept her distance from other young ladies as well.

It was sometime during her second year in Sanditon she first bumped into Edward outside of Lady Denham’s house. She’d been talking to a scullery maid outside of a shop when she bumped into Edward.

‘Spending time with your own kind, dear Clara?’

‘I heard that you don’t mind spending time with my kind.’

Knowledge was power, and she knew that it was wise to make neither an enemy of Edward, nor let him make her a prey.

His eyes flashed with anger before he smiled.

‘Are you going to tell our sweet old aunt of it?’

‘I could. But I won’t. I think. For now.’

‘Don’t think just because you’ve found some dirt on me that you have secured yourself her legacy. I can dig as well, and I will find something.’

‘That’s why I won’t tell her.’

‘Oh do try to play the game. I’m dying to see who’ll win.’

She didn’t feel the need to say that she had already won in her own eyes. As long as Lady Denham remained alive, she would have all the comfort she craved, with enough free time to do things she enjoyed. It was infinitely better than her life before. She won each day that she was allowed to remain.

‘Have a nice day, Edward.’

‘And you, fair Clara.’

The next time they bumped into each other, Clara had unfortunately been caught in a compromising situation with a boy working in a bookshop. He’d been handsome and sweet, though perhaps a little too cute for her liking. Perhaps it was her upbringing spoiling her, but after all the men she’d met, she felt too old and corrupted to enjoy a stuttering boy. But lord, had it been nice that someone offered her flowers and said hello with the sweetest of smiles. She enjoyed her life, but everyone was constantly playing games and trying very hard to make clever remarks. She liked to play the game, but it had been refreshing to have someone to talk to who was so open and direct.

‘Well well, what do we have here? Aren’t you supposed to be working?’

The boy quickly slipped past Edward, leaving Clara awkwardly blocked between Edward and three walls.

‘Enjoying ourselves, sweet cousin?’

‘I was.’

‘What would dear auntie say?’

‘Less than she’d say to you.’

It was only a kiss, after all.

‘A woman doesn’t need to do as much as a man for her reputation to suffer.’

He inched closer, taking her chin in his hands.

‘You should pick your spots a little bit more carefully.’

‘I’ll think about it, next time.’

He kept her gaze for ten seconds, their faces only inches apart. She briefly wondered whether he’d kiss her. But he let go, taking a few steps back as if bitten.

‘So, what brings you to a dark alleyway?’

‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’

‘Lady Denham is more to me alive than dead, Edward. We don’t need to be hostile.’

‘Every day she lives is a day I don’t have her money. That’s another day she can use her money as a threat, to make us dance like puppets for her own entertainment. Don’t you get tired of it?’

‘I have no guarantee I’ll see any money when she dies. So to me, it doesn’t matter how much she threatens with her inheritance. I’ll just play along.’

His eyes got a dangerous gleam.

‘There’s no written testament yet. Am I supposed to believe you aren’t trying to wriggle yourself a way into her heart during all the time you two spend together? You already benefit now. The more you play along, the bigger your chances probably get. Not that I fear, of course, Esther and I have a far superior claim to that money. But you know old senile women, sometimes they just don’t think straight.’

‘Perhaps your chances would be higher, if you did as she asked. And your sister too, on that note. Lady Denham would look on her more favourably if she’d at least give the piano or the suiters a go.’

‘My sister’s honesty and shyness get in her way, yes. But why should I not indulge it? It can only benefit me.’

That moment Clara realized two things. Esther’s haughtiness and distance hadn’t been her refusing to pretend, she had been covering her shyness with a mask of haughtiness and indifference. Secondly, Edward Denham would stop at nothing to get the lion’s share of the inheritance. He was even willing to sabotage the chances of his own sister.

‘She thinks you’re squandering away your title and benefits instead of making something of your life.’

‘A man of my status can hardly be blamed for being idle. Ever heard of Beau Brummel? He’s the modern standard for genteel men.’

‘Ever heard of army men? They’re a great deal more admired and a lot less ridiculed. Or don’t you read newspapers?’

‘Clever Clara, very clever. But being employed for money is admitting you don’t have enough of it.’

‘You don’t.’

‘But then the world will know. Pretence is everything.’

‘If you’re so good at pretending, let’s pretend this never happened. Good day, Edward.’

Fate had decided they were to be enemies, fighting for the same thing. If one won, the other lost. And losing wasn’t an option for either of them. Both would have to give up their living standard, their pride, their homes, the social circles in which they moved, and seek employment while neither of them had real marketable skills. The loss wouldn’t be as big for Clara. She had nothing to lose after all. She’d come from little, and had never had real prospects. Everything she’d ever gotten had been a gift to be enjoyed but never a certainty.

On a fine day at the end of summer, Lady Denham had set out to visit the beach with the Parkers and her cousins. Esther was her usual self, and Edward was all smiles and charm as he pretended to adore the idea of Sanditon. There was nothing subtle in the way he supported the investments of his aunt or the way he supported Tom Parker while mocking him behind his back.

Just after her aunt exclaimed how she believed in the restorative powers of the sea water for a drink, Edward immediately started.

‘Ah yes, the sea is indeed lovely. Far warmer and pleasant than on the Northern or Western side of the island. Mr. Parker just proposed to invest in some bathing machines so women can enjoy the healing benefits of the sea water. In Brighton and Ostend they are already in full use. The salt water is claimed to help with aching muscles and a spotty complexion. It also does wonder for limp hair or so I’ve heard. Esther’s hair already has a lovely curl and her skin is as glowing as ever, I’m sure it has to do with the fact that sea water is added to her baths. Have you already tried out our healing coastal waters, Clara?’

Esther’s cheeks reddened. Clara bit her lip to keep her face from pulling at the insult that she should have need of the water.

‘I’m afraid I have not.’

‘We men regularly indulge. After all, there’s no need for complex contraptions on the men’s beach. But women are more delicate and proper than us men. Perhaps it would benefit you.’

‘Surely, if it is that miraculous, it is nothing short of a wonder you are still failing to secure yourself a wife, Edward’, Lady Denham scathed.

Clara and Esther couldn’t hide their amused smiles, but Edward only smiled politely.

‘Perhaps I should start drinking it too, perhaps it will heal my character.’

Lady Denham’s face withdrew into her neck at the jab.

‘I’m still young aunt. I’m sure I’ll manage once I reach the proper age to settle.’

‘Ah yes, the ripe old age of inheritance’, Lady Denham smirked. ‘Don’t set your heart on it too much. Finding a rich wife wouldn’t be a bad idea. I have half a mind to find you a wife within this year or the next.’

The news hit both cousins. Edward and Esther both turned away from their aunt. Esther really needed to find someone else to befriend. If anything went wrong with Edward, she’d be left without anyone on this earth.

Another year passed. And as Lady Denham entered yet another year healthily, the mood turned even more sour and competitive. The three cousins only communicated with jabs and polite conversation masking underlying meanings. Lady Denham ignored the climate, and pretended to notice nothing as she tried to match Esther time after time, while sending Edward to London balls in an attempt to make him stand out. But Edward just stuck with bad men with even worse reputations in dark card rooms while Esther rejected suitor after suitor.

It baffled Clara. At least a third of the suitors were quite pleasant. Though the handsomest were also the most vain and shallow, and few ever said anything but things to flatter Lady Denham and admire Esther’s beauty. And almost all talked about themselves a great deal. But they were wealthy, alright in the looks department and really… whoever looked for more in a husband when one was poor? Clara would’ve died for Lady Denham to try and marry her off in the way she tried to sell Esther.

She sometimes wondered what possessed the girl to rebuke anyone who tried to come close to her even though she was isolated and had little prospect. Nor did she seem to enjoy things like shopping or spending time with high society. At least in Edward’s case it was clear he was unwilling to grow up and was just waiting around for the money so he could continue his lifestyle with Lady Denham’s money.

However, every attempt to come close to Esther was immediately met with suspicion and quickly shut down. It seemed that no one in her entire family was a nice person. And so she endured another year without friendship except from some kitchen maids.

In the year 18—things changed forever. The hostility and competition were at an all time high, the cousins always coming up with new ways to discredit the other in the eyes of their shared great-aunt. But every move was countered. The situation appeared to be at an eternal impasse. That was, until the summer, when Edward Denham set plans in motion with renewed energy.

Clara wasn’t focussed on her nephew, however. Instead, she fully embraced the possibility of finding a new friend in Charlotte Heywood.

‘I'm afraid you must have found Lady Denham rather rude.’

‘She does seem very … direct.’

‘She is. I'm very grateful to her for taking me in. I'm the very poorest of poor relations, Miss Heywood.’

‘Charlotte, please. And may I call you Clara?’

‘Of course.’

‘How do you like Sanditon?’

‘Very much. Though I've seen very little of it.’

‘Do you plan to try sea bathing?’

‘I want to try everything there is to try. Do you care for it yourself?’

‘I confess I haven't been in the sea yet. Although Sir Edward has been extolling its health-giving properties to me.’

‘Perhaps we could enjoy it or endure it together?’

‘I should like that very much.’

With glee, she looked forward to spending time with Sanditon’s newest inhabitant. The girl appeared to be kind and eager, and devoid of a personal agenda unlike Sanditon’s regulars. However, their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Edward and Esther, with Edward putting on his usual charm to invite them on a cliffside walk. The young woman was immediately claimed by her aunt, no doubt to dissuade Miss Heywood from falling prey to Edward’s charms. Soon after they’d set out on their walk, the youngest Parker siblings arrived, and the youngest brother laid claim on Miss Heywood.

She had a brief moment of hope afterwards, during the sea bathing, but all hope was dashed shortly after.

‘Edward, what are you doing here?’

‘Ah, dear cousin. What a lucky coincidence.’

The gleam in his eyes however, told her there was nothing serendipitous about their meeting in the park. Edward had been laying low for a while now. He had yet to show a sign of the scheme he had concocted to endear himself to Lady Denham this. However, this could be the moment he had decided to start his plan of action.

‘I don’t know is it? I personally came here for some private time with my own thoughts.’

‘Private time to think about a way to get a part of the inheritance, no doubt.’

She hadn’t, but she decided that after years of avoiding conflict, she would meet Edward’s challenges head on. After all, what could go wrong? As it was, she was secure until Lady Denham died, and was guaranteed to go back home afterwards. The only thing she risked was perhaps getting some part of the inheritance, and otherwise the situation would be the same as it was before.

‘So what if I was?’

‘You won’t get it cousin, why bother?’

‘Why do you bother, knowing Lady Denham doesn’t fall for your flattery? She sees right through your act, you know.’

‘What act? I can be honestly charming. And I do care about her beloved project. This could perfectly be the next Brighton.’

When Clara remained silent, Edward laughed and neared her.

‘And what would poor little Clara do with the money?’

‘My family is very poor.’

‘You would distribute the riches? How Christian of you. You’d become the next Lady Denham, the one wealthy unmarried aunt all family members flock to, wouldn’t you?’

‘Truth be told I’d rather don’t end up miserable and alone, constantly plagued by my young cousins.’

‘A husband and children to plague you then. And who would the lucky man be? Someone handsome and rich?’

‘You’re amusing, Edward.’

‘A marriage of convenience, right out of her book. Well well. Soon you too shall start pestering my sister to marry some dim-witted happy-go-lucky lordling who’d be too stupid to live.’

‘Marriage is an economic transaction Edward, that’s why Lady Denham tries to marry the both of you off. It’s one of the few ways you and Esther can be guaranteed a comfortable life. I don’t see why convincing her to marry would be a bad thing?’

Edward huffed.

‘Good luck marrying her off. Lady Denham has been trying for years, yet no one ever succeeded.’

‘Yes, I wonder why. At least a third of them was agreeable, and at least half were tolerable. Either she’s just being stubborn or…’

Edward’s forehead rumpled as Clara searched his face to finally voice the suspicion that had been growing inside of her mind for years. Yet she’d always been thrown off by other things. She first suspected it when she noticed how Esther never stood up for herself when Edward mocked her, and how she was distracted whenever he touched her. But then she’d let out the occasional scathing remark in his direction. And Edward never seemed to show her a lot of regard, and was still screwing around maids in town. She’d also put the amount of failed suitors up to Esther behaving like a brat because she tried to cover shyness with coolness and disinterest, chasing away everyone so she wouldn’t have to open up or endure more time than necessary with them… But in the end, it didn’t make a lot of sense. No matter whether she was shy, she didn’t have to be both disinterest and mean on top of it. And she could have started liking someone, being shy didn’t mean never taking a liking to anyone. Unless…

‘Or she’s already too in love with someone else to marry another.’

The way his mouth pulled at the corners, not immediately laughing or objecting, told her enough.

‘I wonder how that fits into your great scheme of inheriting aunt’s money. I doubt she’ll approve of two siblings marrying one another.’

‘That’s why I am not marrying Esther.’

‘Does she know that?’

‘Esther refuses to be sold to the highest bidder. They’re either stupid, ugly, or want her because she’s pretty and of good breeding. You can hardly blame her. She wants someone to want her for herself, right now no one wants her. They don’t even care to get to know her if she’s even throwing the slightest bit of a mood. They only last a full ten minutes when women aren’t busy worshipping them.’

He was dancing around the point.

With only minor regret, as one used to unpleasant turns of events, she accepted that their acquaintance wasn’t meant to be.

‘And do you want her for herself? you clearly don’t worship her, or anyone.’

‘That’s because no one is without fault.’

‘You didn’t answer the first question, Edward.’

‘Wanting her?’

He straightened his shoulders as he took back the agency he lost when he was first surprised by her guesswork.

‘Want is fickle. And wants can disagree with each other. I want food, I want a house without a leaky roof. I want wealth so I wouldn’t mind a wealthy wife. But I want freedom as well, and a wife limits that. Right now, I don’t want Esther. Right now, I’d be much more inclined to have someone I could spar with, someone willing to play the game instead of being full of stupid honesty and silly hopes. I even would even go as far as to admit I want you, dear Clara.’

‘Me?’

She asked in surprise, taking a step back. She wondered what game he was playing at. First he wanted her gone, and now he claimed to want her in such a way? Why the change?

He grinned, taking a step towards her as the wheels in her brain started turning.

‘Come on, let’s not play around. Esther would trail behind me like a puppy. It’d be tedious. If I ever get a wife, I’d want them to be independent of me, and strong minded. It’s too easy getting what I want from her. What can I say, I love a good challenge?’

‘Esther doesn’t seem to be dependent’, Clara muttered as she eyed him with suspicion.

‘That’s because you don’t see us when we’re home. She can act all blasé in public, but at home she needs constant reaffirmation and she’s all too easily persuaded. Have you truly, you who read people like no other, never noticed how she only needs the smallest push from me? How a word or look from me will have an influence on her unlike any other?’

She had. But she’d never been able to interpret it in the right way.

‘But you, you play the game. You despise Lady Denham’s mean commentary and despicable use of her money to make us dance, just as much as I do. But just like me you play nice when you’re around her. Even better than me, I must admit. Playing cute and innocent and ever so shy and insecure, presenting yourself like some vulnerable doe. Really, it’s quite impressive, and to hold that charade up every day, from dusk until dawn, very good. I admire that.’

‘You say you enjoy a challenge, yet you can’t deny that you’ve hated me the past couple of years just because of the possibility I might receive some of her money.’

‘I hate that she seems to prefer you, Clara’, he smiled as he took yet another step closer.

‘It’s nothing personal. It’s just that I haven’t been assured my fair share yet, so everyone coming in and charming their way into her heart makes me uneasy. Surely you understand. If we met in other circumstances, perhaps we might have even liked each other. Let’s not pretend like we don’t consider each other attractive.’

He took a lock of hair between his fingers, softly sliding his fingers along its length.

She was shocked that he’d noticed, and surprised at his sudden turn. But she knew better than to fall for Edward’s charm charade. She would get answers out of him. She would find out his reasons for being nice.

‘You find many girls attractive Edward, it’s a miracle not one of your wild oats has hatched yet.’

‘Clara, come on now. You think those girls are on the same level as you? A man has certain desires that need to be sated, I’m sure you must have some ideas, having lived with your uncle in an urban area where they’re probably a bit more open and vulgar. But those girls were just means to an end. There are no goals in my attraction to you. Actually, my want for you contradicts my goals. It would get us into great trouble with our aunt. But I feel lonely sometimes, being the only sir in a town filled with buffoons. And your cleverness is hopelessly wasted on our dear Lady D. It’s isolating, is it not? Having no friends? No hugs? No _touch_ by someone who really gets you?’

He pressed his lips against hers and for a second, she allowed it. She still didn’t understand what he was playing at. He’d been right when he said this could get them into serious trouble should Lady Denham find out. On the other hand, he was equally right when he said they were isolated and attracted to each other. He screwed around with the occasional servant, and she’d kissed some boys a handful of times, but it had always been meaningless and superficial.

‘Come now, Clara, let’s bury the feud this afternoon.’

It sounded so tempting. And surely, if they were found out it would cost him just as much as her. If one betrayed the other, the other could drag them down with them.

And so she finally gave in and kissed back. She didn’t know what game he was playing, but two could play that game.

All happened so fast. First they were kissing, next he was groping her, and before she knew it, he was trying to enter her. However, as she quickly realized his intentions and the possible risks, she quickly switched their positions, going down on him with practiced instinct after years of having to avoid her virginity being harmed in her uncle’s house.

‘Heavens woman, what are you ugh-‘

So that had been his aim. Have sex with her. No matter how he filled her with desire, she would never allow anyone to compromise her. As a man, he could walk away, but she could not. And if it came to that, Lady Denham would find out and turn her away. She could always betray Edward so that he’d be disowned – something Lady Denham would no doubt do if she found out – but life for an unmarried penniless woman was worse than life for a penniless unattached man with a title.

Edward’s hands were in her hair, and his thrusts were coming faster each second, until his hips shook, and it was over. Perhaps it was finally her time to get some attention.

However, Edward stilled, nails digging in her scalp. She looked up and noticed his eyes were focussed on something on his left. Curious, she lifted her head, and that was when she spotted Miss Heywood.

In that moment she knew she would not become friends with Miss Heywood, and prayed Miss Heywood would be too shocked and oblivious to understand what she’d seen and how it could influence their future if she chose to tell it to someone else.

She left, and Edward cursed.

‘Now what?’

‘She’s a gentlewoman is she not? She shouldn’t understand what she’s seen.’

‘But obviously she knows something is wrong and improper about a man and a woman laying against each other between the grass and tree branches. No matter how much the grass shielded your nudeness and what we were doing.’

‘I’ll send Esther to smooth things over. I don’t think she’ll listen to me.’

‘I’ll try to talk it over as well. We got along well before, though I don’t doubt I’ve lost quite some credit in her eyes.’

‘As long as she keeps her mouth shut. This has the potential to ruin the both of us’, he mused.

Everything changed from then on, though at the same time everything stayed the same. Lady Denham continued to be herself, she neither gained nor lost a friend after Charlotte distanced herself from all Denham’s, despite Clara’s attempt to put it all on Edward. It had been his doing, and he had persuaded her. And she had kept him at bay by doing what she did. But she had been a willing participant. Luckily though, Charlotte and Esther remained the only ones who knew of it, so life in Sanditon carried on as usual.

The relationship between herself and Edward though, changed. Whatever words were exchanged between them were charged, but in a different way than before. Whatever game they were playing, they had definitely evolved into the next phase of it. She also saw Esther and Edward’s behaviour in a new light after the encounter. Esther became increasingly hostile, vengeful even. It was frustrating to watch. Because she knew how Edward regarded her.

Clara didn’t doubt that Edward had exaggerated what he thought of Esther in a way to compliment her instead. But that he was even willing to talk about her like that told enough about how much he really valued his sister-in-law. She pitied the girl, really. She was too beautiful and smart to waste all her years pining after Edward. She wished to warn the girl, feeling that it was awfully unfair that she was so faithful to Edward without knowing how he really thought of her.

She’d promised herself that despite their animosity, she’d find a way to tell her on the day of Dr. Fuch’s presentation. But she was quickly led away by Edward.

‘My dear Clara, you have made a valiant effort, but you must know that your claim is futile. And however much you play the innocent, our aunt is bound to find you out soon enough… I know you think of me often.’

That was when Clara realized Edward had not just acted impulsively on a so called ‘want’ or irrational desire. He’d deliberately tried to seduce her, though she could only guess whether he had been genuinly attracted to her. He wouldn’t have minded had she become pregnant. It had been a ploy to disgrace her in the eyes of Lady Denham. How he thought that he would be able to get her pregnant without being disgraced in the eyes of Lady Denham himself, was beyond her comprehension. Or was he really so stupid as to think he could hide that?

‘You flatter yourself. I feel nothing for you.’

He merely smiled, pretending to the outside world they were discussing sweet nothings.

‘There is nothing you can do to me, without injuring yourself in the process’, she hissed before walking away. Two could play this game. She could play along just as well, but he wouldn’t be her downfall. She’d survived years of her uncle, who’d forced her to do a lot of unspeakable things. She was armed with knowledge Edward could barely even guess at. She would walk away from their game, and she’d walk away victorious. Edward had tried bringing her down. Now she would try to bring him down and remain with Lady Denham.

Judging by the tone Lady Denham addressed her with when she returned, and Esther’s expression, it was clear that Esther had been trying to turn Lady Denham against her. Knowing she was walking on a knife’s edge, she felt no fear as she volunteered to help dr. Fuch’s. Her aunt hated the doctor, so Clara would give her reason to hate him. Sitting in the tub, she looked around for anything she could use in her bid to make him look bad, before noticing the hot pipe through which the boiling water ran.

Everything comes at a price, she decided as she pushed her arm against the pipe for a full minute until she knew it would leave a permanent mark. Poverty would hurt more than a burn ever did. When she was taken out of the tub, she could feel the eyes of the Denham siblings on her. She could play this game, and she could be ruthless.

Esther came by the next day to assert her suspicions. She was, however, ever as transparent as to her true feelings. Which only managed to make Lady Denham think worse of her. Realizing her mistake, she quickly turned, pretending to care with a sly smile as she offered to read to Clara. Clara was certain Lady Denham didn’t trust Esther’s change of heart, but didn’t pick up on any more malice, and instead left the room. Annoyed with Esther’s pitiful attempt at pretence, she told her to quit it as soon as Lady Denham was gone. Esther, in turn, wasted no time getting to the point.

‘I know very well you did this to yourself.’

‘Do you? Then prove it. Lady Denham won't believe you.’

Instead, she knew very well that after the shock of the previous day and seeing the injury, it would only injure Esther if she tried to prove Clara deliberately hurt herself.

‘You and your brother can do what you like, you won't get rid of me.’

‘I wouldn't be too sure of that.’

Again Esther’s blind belief in her brother’s attempts to gain the fortune. Esther herself didn’t even try to get on her aunt’s good side. Perhaps it was true, perhaps Esther was dependent on Edward, relying on him to make everything right. Stupidly so, his plans and schemes were reckless and dangerous. She’d had half a mind to warn Esther about her brother before, but now she wished to hurt Esther, to make her mistrust him and make her doubt. Esther knew about what had happened, but she did not know Clara knew about her crush. She thought – rightfully so – that Edward had seduced Clara. That it had been his attempt at discrediting her. If she was indeed in love with Edward, she would have probably disgruntledly agreed to it. So the only thing needed, was to get her to doubt that it wasn’t just a one-sided ploy to chase Clara away, but something mutual. Or rather, that he had been the one falling for her. Nothing could injure a woman’s pride more than being put aside for another one, she’d learned that when living with her aunt and uncle.

‘Your brother's trouble is that he is so, so, easily led.’

‘You little bitch.’

It had immediate effect. Esther couldn’t hide her anger, immediately slamming her nails into Clara’s wound. But Clara refused to give her the satisfaction. Instead she revelled in the open anger. First comes anger, then comes doubt, then comes the breakdown of the bond. She’d seen it before.

‘How do you like that?’ Esther hissed.

She just tried to make Clara hurt the way Clara hurt her feelings. It was obvious really, and told Clara everything she needed to know, straight from the source. The intensity of the reaction was enough to confirm just how insecure Esther really was. If she had faith in Edward, she would’ve laughed Clara’s comments away. It actually worried her, that Esther was so unsure of Edward yet so faithful to him that she couldn’t stand to hear a bad word about him.

‘Oh, Esther, you have no idea what I endured before I came here, and you have no idea what I'm prepared to do to ensure I stay so you would do well to crawl away. And take your poor, silly brother with you, if you don't want me to ruin him.’

Esther’s eyes burned with intensity, anger boiling just underneath her skin as all the comments hit home. But this time, she managed to keep her composure, trying to salvage her appearance by appearing confident. But too late, her mask had slipped. She pitied her. Her honesty got in her way. Edward had been right, she just couldn’t play the game.

‘You may have got away with this . but you will trip yourself up soon enough and when you do I will be waiting.  
  
  


Her victory was not long lived however. It appeared that though she had garnered temporal sympathy from Lady Denham, the woman was still as cold as ever, and Clara’s position still as unsure.

‘And as for prospects, Clara, I fear they are beyond remedy.’

‘I should be content to remain here as your ward forever, Aunt.’

‘Oh, well, nothing lasts forever. Here. You can deliver this to Denham Place for me.’

The conversation kept on replaying in her head. Lady Denham still wanted to marry the Denham siblings off, and Esther’s position at Lady Denham’s side was still uncertain. And if her position was uncertain, than the inheritance definitely was. Filled with despair, she set off to Denham Place. She tried to imagine what it would be like going home. She had been gone from home almost twice as long as she’d ever been there, and she didn’t have regular contact with her family. Most were illiterate, and no one cared for her. Returning was a realistic but bleak prospect. She had to find a way to stay.

She found another piece of evidence against the siblings when she walked in, spotting them in an incriminating position. She put the letter down and left however, after making sure they knew she’d been there and had another piece of information she could use as leverage. Another move on her part. She’d sworn she’d play the game.

She had seen enough so she could ruin them in the eyes of Lady Denham, but then Edward would probably spill the beans about her. They were stuck. And she knew Lady Denham well enough that if all three turned out to be unworthy, she would have no problems giving her money to none of them.

The next big move on the chessboard was when the siblings finally dropped by Lady Denham’s to discuss suitors. Clara was determined to keep up her role in the eyes of Lady Denham, and dangle her knowledge in front of Edward as a show of power. She also knew how Esther’s inflammable temper could potentially lead to a disaster in this very living room, but she relished in it. Knowing that if she played her cards well, she could make Lady Denham suspicious and push Esther towards a marriage. That way, she’d be a thing less to worry about during the inheritance game, she’d take away a puppet of Edward, and she’d remove Esther from Edward’s influence.

‘And as for you, if you could keep that scowl off your face for long enough, there's no reason why we shouldn't find you a husband by Michaelmas.’

‘I wouldn't count on it.’

‘Given how skilled Esther is at deterring suitors. Even Babington's bound to give up, sooner or later.’

Clara hid a smile. Esther’s face turned pale. This would be too easy. They were making it too easy.

‘Lord Babington?’ her aunt asked with interested.

‘Oh, yes, he's quite besotted.’

‘Oh, well! Esther? I trust you've been fanning the flames of his ardour?’

‘Certainly not. I have been ignoring him.’

It was in that moment Clara knew that Lady Denham would not let it go anymore. It was the first time a suitor was still besotted despite that she’d been ignoring him. Esther might be stubborn, but Lady Denham had been growing increasingly annoyed as the years went by and Esther kept rebuking suitors. The old woman was stubborn as well, and this was the wealthiest man who’d ever come close to Esther. To hear that he was not only interested but besotted almost caused her eyes to turn into coins.

‘Oh, you foolish, ungrateful child! Lord Babington couldn't be a better prospect if he was advanced in years and in poor health. He'd be a perfect husband!’

‘For someone else perhaps.’

Esther was growing annoyed again as Lady Denham tried to push her into a certain direction.

‘And why not you? What is it you want?’

‘Could it be that no man will ever measure up to Edward? That's a fair question, I grant you. I have rarely seen two people enjoy such intimacy. If you could, I suspect you would marry each other!’

The siblings froze. One boiling with anger and excitement, the other with embarrassment and rage. Another attack. Whether Lady Denham understood or not, they would undoubtedly feel exposed now. Provoked snakes were bound to lash out, Clara knew. But angry beasts were reckless, while she herself was calculated.

‘Oh, really, what nonsense you talk! Your company is so much more agreeable when you smile and say nothing. Why don't you play for us instead?’

She gladly agreed, innocently smiling at her aunt. Her aunt thought nothing of it. But if she guessed correctly, they would both be angry and probably fight that night. Or it would be added to a growing pile of frustrations, a ticking timebomb waiting to happen. Anyway, she was curious as to how it would explode. However, she was not done yet, and quickly called Esther over to play with her some more.

Edward and Lady Denham were players, but the key was Esther. The one caught between all the schemes and games. Edward was the one to act, but getting to Esther was of the essence to hurt him. And though she knew she was hurting and annoying her, she knew it could only be a good thing to plant a seed of doubt in her about Edward, and to manipulate her. Perhaps the pressure of Clara openly vying for the inheritance would put pressure on their relationship and make it crack, and that would do Esther good. Edward played dangerous games, and Esther wasn’t good at them. Any distance, any doubt and any fight could help break his hold over her.

‘I must say, it is kind of Edward to help you dress in the morning. I wonder, does he also undress you at the day's end?’

Esther had gained control over her emotions since her slip-up before, and was now a cool mask of indifference, pretending she didn’t get the insinuations.

‘One cannot lace one's own stays and I did not have a servant to hand. That is all.’

It sounded like she had invited Edward to do it. Clara briefly bewondered whether she had. It was possible, if she was indeed a bit in love with him. But why Edward? He was handsome and smart, she could hardly disagree with that, but what made him so attractive to Esther? Was it the proximity that had pushed her to him? Their united goal to acquire Lady Denham’s wealth? Was it a match of the minds? Anyway, the love was clearly one sided. One who screwed around like Edward could not really love her. One who talked about her like he did, could not really love her. Was Esther truly unaware of just how little her brother thought of her?

‘Men can be so artful in their persuasion, can they not? And it is so much harder to resist when you are sleeping under the same roof. For me, it was an uncle.’

‘You are not suggesting I am the victim of some unnatural coercion?’

She could see the rage boiling beneath a thin veil of amusement. She recognized it, had laughed it away when maids had asked her about her uncle. She’d been dying of shame on the inside as she was trapped in his home with no choice but to go along. For a while, she’d even believed it had been her own fault. That she was to blame. That if only her breasts didn’t grow, or hadn’t so eagerly embraced his kindness as a child, he wouldn’t have gotten those ideas.

‘He is your brother. What could be more unnatural than that?’

‘By marriage alone! We share no blood! Were it not for the fact that we bear the same name, we would be …’

Esther was actually in love with him. She’d just been teasing before, but apparently marriage was a very real possibility in Esther’s mind. It was possible to marry a sibling-in-law, but very unlikely. It was frowned upon. Then there was Lady Denham, who’d definitely disapprove, and the problem of the inheritance. And that were just the problems they’d have with the outside world. With so many things going against them, they were required to at least want to marry because they loved each other, but Edward didn’t. It was a recipe for disaster. The poor thing. She could almost forgive the way Esther treated her out of pity for her predicament.

‘You would be what? No. It cannot be. You are not in love with him?’

‘That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!’

But it was clearly the truth.

‘Of course you are. It is so obvious now that I think of it. My poor, dear, Esther. You have my pity.’

‘I have no need of your pity.’

‘Oh, but you do. I have seen enough of Sir Edward Denham to know how this story ends.’

‘Do not presume to know the first thing about my brother.’

‘May I give you some advice, my dear? Listen to our aunt. Find yourself a wealthy husband now, while you still can. Because whatever this happy future is that you imagine for the pair of you, it is quite impossible. But in your heart of hearts you already know that.’

It hurt her to see Esther stumble towards a tree, clutching onto the branch as she looked away. She wasn’t particularly likeable, but she felt guilty all the same for hurting her. However, there was no way to avoid it. Edward was wrong for her. And people like Edward were too calculated to fall for a direct attack. Clara’s best change of getting Edward to misbehave was to make him feel like he was losing. He didn’t talk too highly of his sister, but she didn’t doubt that he still wanted to possess her, otherwise there was no reason why he would keep her close.

‘Clara! Where’s Esther?’ Edward demanded once the cricket game was over.

‘I think she left with Lord Babington after the break.’

‘Babington? That oaf? What’s she even playing at?’

His frustration and arrogance really shone through. She’d been right guessing that Edward wanted to keep Esther close.

‘You were the one who told aunt about Babington. And you know she wanted Esther to spend time with him. She’s just doing as our aunt asked, I don’t know why you think she’s playing any games.’

‘Aunt’s wanted her to marry before. She had no problem refusing back then. She doesn’t even like him. He’s the most plain, dull and dumb one in a dozen lords.’

‘I thought you’d approve of her deciding to go with him, making independent decisions without you. You did hate how she depended on you.’

‘Like she’s making autonomous decisions. She’s just following aunt’s scheme and going along with whatever Babington has in mind. Instead of her helping me to convince our dear aunt to give us her fortune, she’s instead following aunt’s plan, playing with wealthy lords so our aunt won’t have to give us our inheritance since we’ll be married into money.’

‘You’ll be wealthy though, wasn’t that the end goal?’

‘It is, but preferably not at the cost of our freedom. How she can even spend five minutes with that man is beyond my comprehension. There’s no substance to him.’

He looked around, hands on his hips, the epitome of annoyance and frustration, before he took a deep breath, seemingly fabricating a more pleasant interpretation of the turn of events, before turning back to Clara with a smile.

‘No doubt I’ll hear all about it when I go home. She always lets me read the letters he sends her, it is a source of amusement to us. Clever girl. She’s not seriously considering Babington but as long as she tolerates him aunt will at least think we’re making an effort, which shall make her view us more favourably. Meanwhile we have something new to laugh about.’

He nodded, pleased with the new interpretation his mind came up with after some mental gymnastics.

‘But the longer she tolerates him, the bigger the chances are of a proposal’, Clara warned, feigning concern for him.

‘Ha! She’ll reject him of course. Aunt won’t go around asking Babington why he’s stopped paying attention. Perhaps we’ll be magnanimous and send him to you, you’ll need it.’

‘How generous. I certainly wouldn’t mind. I’d rather have a stupid husband instead of a cunning one.’

‘You’ll be bored.’

‘But I know he’ll never be able to outsmart me.’

‘Darling Clara, you can always level up when you’re with a smart husband. But a stupid husband is infinitely worse. He’s still head of the household. You’ll be able to see all his stupid decisions, but because of your position you shall never be able to stop him. So you’ll have to look on as he ruins your lives. A smart one will be a good deal less frustrating.’

‘One could argue a stupid one is easier to convince.’

He gave the idea some thought as they watched the game field.

‘Just imagine if we’d both been wealthy. The things we could’ve done. Lost potential, that’s what we are.’

‘Not all potential is lost. We could both inherit and work together, you know. You make an enemy of me, while there’s no reason for us to be so.’

‘Everything you get is something I don’t. It’s simple mathematics.’

‘But if we work together and use our potential, we could make the money we inherit grow.’

However, Edward was not ready for that idea so he took his leave.

None of them could have anticipated Lady Denham’s impeccable health taking a sudden and drastic turn for the worse that very day. And a grave shock it was. For her aunt did not leave bed, and even stopped complaining.

Clara kept vigilance the entire evening, until finally, Lady Denham turned as silent as the dead. She would almost fear the old woman had slipped away, if it wasn’t for her breathing. It was the most emotion she’d felt in years. Lady Denham’s death would change everything. She’d had a good life in Sanditon, but without Lady Denham she was forced to return home. Back to poverty. She didn’t know of any testament. If she didn’t get a thing, she’d be poor for the rest of her life.

‘Oh, why did you never try finding a husband for me?’ Clara moaned as she rested her head against the bedroom wall.

She had to find the will. She had to see if she would get a share. And if she found it and she didn’t… Well, if the will disappeared, the attorney would probably divide the sum between those nearest to Lady Denham, which included her.

She eyed the old woman. She was nothing with her money in death, it wasn’t stealing. It was ensuring her future. And so she started looking.

Esther had gone home, she knew. She didn’t know what Edward was up to downstairs. No doubt he was anxiously waiting to see the lady blow her last breath. She looked in every drawer, between all the sheets, up, in and under the drawers and desks. It was hidden very well. Very well, but it was findable.

Like many elderly, even Lady Denham was bound to harbour some sentimental feelings about the road her life had taken, and thus, behind her wedding portrait with Lord Denham, rested an envelope with her will in it. It wasn’t sealed, so Clara felt no qualms to open it as quickly as possible.

There was no recovering from what she’d read.

She found Edward under a desk downstairs the following morning, looking mad and glorious at the same time. His hair was mess, his coat lost and his shirt wrinkled. A stubble marred his slim jaws, reaching until just under his sharp cheekbones. He had a wild and panicked look in his eyes. He was just as worried about the testament, and had probably been looking for it the entire night.

She knew that once the testament was destroyed, there was no way to ensure how much she’d get, unless they reached a mutual agreement. However, judging by the last conversation she’d had with Edward, that agreement could very well turn out in the Denham siblings – since Esther was legally under Edward’s supervision since he was the oldest male living relative to her – getting everything and she herself receiving nothing. She would have to bargain with him, and ensure that he’d follow up on his promises.

‘Looking for this?’ she questioned. His head whipped up immediately, eyes narrowing on the piece of paper. She was curious to see how he would respond to it, and decided to take it from there.

_"I, Lady Denham, being of full age and sound mind, "shall impart and bequeath the entirety of my fortune "to be left for the development of Sanditon town and the foundation of a donkey stud in my name.”_

‘This cannot be the end of it?’

Their aunt had always warned them they had to look out for themselves, but even he had underestimated just how much she loathed charity. She’d known they’d been out waiting for her to die, and there was no better way to punish them for counting her days than leaving them with nothing.

‘I assure you it is.’

‘Even in death, she has found fresh ways to torment us.

The despair was obvious. She however, had spent the night mulling it over, trying to find a way out of it. She was at least two steps ahead of him.

‘It were better for us both if this were never found.’

‘What are you suggesting? That we hide it?’

‘We will need to be a good deal more thorough than that.’

It was time for her to put her plan in action now. She could see the smile cracking through his worried face.

‘Ha! Yes. Yes! I'll be damned if I'm going to be pauperised by a drove of donkeys!’

She drew the contract back, hesitant by his use of the first person. She had to ensure that there would be no selfish ‘I’-inheritance. She’d found the will, she’d spent years working for Lady Denham, and she had it worse than Edward and Esther. She deserved and needed a piece.

‘We haven't agreed our terms.’

‘What terms? If she dies intestate, her fortune reverts back to the holder of the Denham title. I'm sorry. It's that simple.’

She wasn’t surprised, but yet she couldn’t help but be disappointed by his selfishness. He had the exact same fears about being poor. He knew exactly how cruel the world was, yet he would damn her without a second thought.

‘There's nothing simple about it. I need to know what my silence is worth.’

‘It's your word against mine.’

Clara doubted the word of a man of whom everyone knew he was after Lady Denham’s money and had a dubious morale, would weigh more than the word of a dutiful and docile young woman. Women were disadvantaged in the world, but they could count on a good deal of pity and trust.

‘I could go to Lady Denham right now and confess to everything, with four or five servants and a doctor to witness it.’

Edward panicked, but realized it wasn’t an unthinkable outcome.

‘You wouldn't dare!’ he was threatening her, but she knew he had little to threaten her with, and he knew that just as well.

‘What have I to lose?’

‘Wait! - A thousand pounds.’

‘And leave you with the rest? I would sooner let the asses have it.’

‘A tenth.’

She knew she could make a real demand when he said that. She could see his hunger for money and fear of not having any overgrowing his self-esteem. He was too desperate.

‘Half.’

‘A fifth. And no more.’

That, she could agree to. She could perfectly live in all comfort with that, and even spare her family some money. But now to ensure his faithfulness. An idea formed itself as they tossed the will in the fire and watched it burn.

He’d tried using sex with her to reach a goal, it was payback time. Esther would freak out if she knew. And if Edward decided to ignore the deal, he’d have a hard time to avoid giving money to a potential child. As they turned away, she could see the same twinkle of desire, and felt the same pull that had always been there but had been inferior to their rivalry.

Lips collided and clothes went flying. She pulled at her skirts, inviting him, and like a fly drawn to honey, he fell for her.  
  


  
  


‘I hope I can trust you to honour our deal. A quarter of all you inherit’, she announced.

‘We agreed on a fifth.’

‘It's a lady's prerogative to change her mind.’

‘You have proved quite conclusively that you are no lady.’

‘And what about Esther? Is she a lady? It's all right. I haven't breathed a word to anyone. I know how judgmental people would be if they knew how intimate you really are.’

His face was priceless, when he realized he’d just given her the ideal leverage, and she had found additional leverage to tarnish the Denham name for the outside world. He was grasping at straws, trying to find ways around it. He was losing the game. He’d desperately wanted to make an enemy out of her, and by making her a lover, he had done just that.

‘I have no idea what you mean.’

‘Yes, you do. It would break her heart into little tiny pieces if she were to learn of this, would it not? A quarter share will suffice.’

He was trying to fight it, his lips curling in disgust and frustration, fists clenching.

Checkmate. After Edward left, she went to the fireplace to check again. There wasn’t even so much as an inch of paper to be spotted, it had become one with the soot.  
  
  


Dr. Fuchs came around on the day of the regatta to examine Lady Denham again, and shared his assessment to her business partner – a fellow money leach if one asked Clara – and family. Today would most likely be her final day on this earth. Truth be told, Clara was a bit scared. Her life would change forever after this. And they still had to talk with her attorney. It could still go wrong, however, she was at peace knowing it would most likely turn out well. The previous will hadn’t been signed by her attorney, nor did it bear his mark. That meant he probably didn’t know the contents of it. Edward went in to talk to Lady Denham, and she remained behind with Esther, who was coldly staring at the wall awaiting the return of her brother.

‘I cannot think what is keeping him, given conversation with our aunt is currently somewhat one-sided.’

‘He is showing due respect to a dying woman. You might consider doing likewise.’

‘What has she done to merit my respect?’

‘I shan't be goaded into another quarrel. Our enmity is finished. There never was a will.’

Clara was surprised by her calmness. It was odd seeing her so peaceful, she couldn’t believe all animosity had just been down to the money. It was quite sickening. But the content of her words disturbed her. Edward hadn’t told her, she realized. And here Esther was gloating, thinking she knew something Clara didn’t. She started feeling guilty. She had no clue. And if she had no clue, she probably didn’t know of any deal between Edward and her about the money. Would he give Esther a share? No, he’d probably keep it all, which meant she would remain tied to him. And if she thought all money went to Edward, she would support his claim if Edward decided to change his mind in the attorney’s office. No, she had to know at least a part.

‘There most certainly was but its contents were demonstrably absurd. Edward and I had no choice but to burn it. We agreed a half-share each was a far more agreeable outcome.’

Okay, that was an over exaggeration and she was pushing her luck, but right now she really needed to get the point across that a deal was in place and had to be kept.

‘Edward would never conspire with you. He regards you with absolute contempt.’

It almost insulted her pride. But her aunt-in-law had tried talking her down as well. It was jealousy and possessiveness. She wasn’t surprised Edward talked about her in hateful terms behind her back, while giving compliments to her face. He did it with Esther as well, without a doubt. Guessing that this was one of the last times she’d see her cousin, Clara decided she would give Esther a last warning concerning her brother’s two faces.

‘And yet there is no way to feign the kind of fondness he showed me.’

She wasn’t telling they’d done anything. Esther could think whatever, from being kind to kissing to doing what they had before. However, her peaceful face contorted, anger and insecurity fighting for dominance.

‘You're lying.’

Clara steeled herself. She could potentially ruin her deal, but if she didn’t tell Esther, Esther would never be able to see her brother for what he really was. Warnings didn’t do anything, his flings with maids didn’t do anything – if she even knew about those – , the only way she could break free was if she knew that he would take anyone, even someone he claimed to despise. Additionally, knowing they’d lain together could also make her think about how truthful he’d been about not caring for Clara. That on top of the lie about the will might just be it. But she wouldn’t just have to do that, she would have to show that Edward would take anything that was offered. She had to know it wasn’t just because he had to lie with her. She had to start hating him. She had to know that Edward didn’t care enough to wait for her or be faithful to her.

‘I was lying. We both were. On the drawing room floor, if you must know. It was a fleeting encounter, but he was touchingly eager like a little boy. Has that been your experience too? Oh. Could it be that you have never given yourself to him? Small wonder he was so keen to take his pleasure elsewhere.’  
  
Edward came out of the bedroom, and she couldn’t gauge Esther’s reaction. She’d gone all white, but had remained silent. In the same perfect but tense silence she walked into the room.

Edward eyed her.

‘Excited to receive your share?’ she asked.

‘Four fifths. Don’t tinker with it. You’ll uphold your end.’

He wasn’t disputing her claim anymore. That was a good sign.

As long as Esther didn’t go around telling others. It was Clara’s luck the girl was isolated and the only other person Esther frequently talked to was dying in the next room. After all, dead men told no tales.

‘Fine, Edward. Don’t you trust me.’

‘I’ll trust it once I am holding my money.’

‘It might be a lot of money to hold’, she jested. ‘I’m wondering what you shall do. Renovate Denham Place or come live here?’

‘I won’t sell my childhood home.’

‘But surely, two houses in the same town is a bit silly. And there’d be no one wealthy enough to rent it.’

‘I’ll see. No matter what, first thing I’ll do is buy a nice house in London. I can’t wait to be out of here.’

‘Shall you do anything but party?’

‘I think I’ll just spend my time and money enjoying myself the first few months. Just enjoying not having the threat of poverty looming over my back. And what kind of goals does a formerly poor church mouse have?’ he asked as they descended the stairs.

‘Oh, buying something since I got to live somewhere. And then I’ll think about some worthy investments for my money.’

‘Investments. You were serious?’

‘Of course. Only spending it would be stupid if you can make more of it… Well, and some part can go to charity of course.’

‘Charity. Yes, I do believe being a charity case for almost your entire life does make you susceptible to thinking it is a smart idea to waste your money in a similar way.’

Clara had thought it had been check mate. Instead it turned out she’d taken out the queen. She’d gotten her way with Edward, who had been her biggest threat. But while focussing on it, she’d missed the most important piece on the board, step by step making its way towards the two pieces chasing each other. It had been foolish of Clara not to take it into account. But she’d played the game based on the belief that Lady Denham would die. She hadn’t even considered what might happen if she recovered. She hadn’t even awaited Dr. Fuch’s announcement that she was supposed to die that night. Instead, she’d started looking for the will the same night Lady Denham took ill, and immediately burnt it the following morning. She wouldn’t have been able to explain the disappearance of the will, except if she managed to frame Esther or Edward.

But Lady Denham had recovered. Clara was panicking, but Edward was still foolishly thinking he could escape the problem of the burned will… And the potential danger Esther now formed. Esther never really played the game, but because of Clara’s stupid mistake, Esther now held the perfect leverage over Edward and Clara. With just a couple of words, she could ruin them and come out as the sole heir.

‘Oh, words cannot express our relief. Dr Fuchs has earned our eternal gratitude’, Edward cried out with fake relief.

‘Why? I rallied despite him. If anyone deserves credit, it is the cow whose milk restored my strength.’

‘We have kept constant vigil.’

‘Hmm well, you can dry your eyes. I found dying highly disagreeable and I have no intention of repeating the experience. Although, it has to be said, there is nothing like imminent death to focus the mind. It seems I had underestimated the boundless depths of your venality.’

Clara froze. She knew. She knew at least some part. She looked over to Esther, who remained distant, eyes avoiding everyone and arms wrapped protectively around herself. But Esther hadn’t seen the woman since her miraculous recovery… Oh no, Clara realized. She had thought Lady Denham pretty much a dead woman. Had Esther talked to her in her deathlike state? Had she heard? How much had she told? How irreparable was the damage?

What would Lady Denham do?

Edward was perfectly oblivious, not realizing how deep the pit he was standing in was. She had to laud his optimism, but charm and faked concern couldn’t help him if she knew anything about the will.

‘Aunt, you must rest a while. Your fever has clearly left you confused.’

‘No I am anything but. Like a phoenix, I am rising from the ashes which is more than can be said for my last will and testament. Because like your miserable souls, that is blackened beyond redemption!’

‘It was all Clara's idea.’

He didn’t even hesitate a second to throw her under the buss.

‘Liar!’

‘Oh, enough! You feeble parasites! Neither of you shall ever darken my doors again. And, Edward Denham, from this moment forth, you are disowned. And, Clara Brereton, you shall be put on the next coach back to London. I suggest you start packing. Get out! And needless to say, I shall be laying a new floor in my drawing room. It seems the old one has been indelibly stained.’

Clara ran out.

She would return to poverty, without a penny. And now she had to be glad that she would return thus, if Lady Denham wished, she could make it known what she and Edward had done and her name would be too blackened to even enter service in a respectable household.

She’d allowed herself to be swept up in Edward’s game. If she’d just done the right thing and reported his frolicking with the maids and his attempt to seduce her, Lady Denham might have reconsidered her will. The will had obviously been fake, otherwise she wouldn’t have confirmed to Edward he’d been scratched from it, since he hadn’t been on the one they’d found to begin with.

If she’d done nothing and just accepted her fate, Lady Denham would have recovered and perhaps the final years of her life would have mellowed her out by the time she really met her maker, and would have left a tiny something to the relative who would have increasingly taken on the care for her.

She’d gambled and lost. The game had played her instead.

The only thing she could comfort herself with, was that the Denham siblings were finally broken up.

  
She broke down in her bed, crying the afternoon away before collecting herself enough to pack. She wrote a letter addressed to her mother which was meant to warn her about her arrival, and after posting it, she left to wait for the coach.

The sun was sinking beyond the buildings when she spotted Edward stumbling down the road, visibly drunk.

‘The vanquished enemy retreats’, he exclaimed. He couldn’t bring himself to look smug however, as he himself was ruined too.

‘I was never your enemy. Poor Edward. What is to become of you now?’

At least she could say she wore her defeat with dignity, he didn’t. He hadn’t even had a life plan when he’d assumed he was rich, she doubted he knew what to do with his life now. He was too proud to look for work, yet without it, he’d be out on the streets once the small funds he had dried out.

However, even in his state, he still possessed the Denham pride, and kept on looking for a narrative in which he was superior.

‘I have no need of your sympathy. I am still a gentleman. I have a title. Everything that you own is in those pathetic little bags.’

‘Yes, but I had nothing to lose. You've lost everything. Look at you, alone and unloved. Trust me, that is not an easy place to find yourself. I will spare you a thought now and then. I know you will think of me.’

And so they parted as enemies, lovers and losers. An insecure future loomed on the horizon, and she could only hope the lord would be merciful. It was cruel, how the monster of poverty had hounded them for all their lives, but how in trying to escape it, they had made monsters of themselves.


	4. Hug Me

Mrs. Griffiths couldn’t keep Georgiana with her if she tried. She hadn’t felt inclined to obey before, and she certainly didn’t now that her guardian had broken the heart of her only friend, successfully chasing her away from Sanditon.

She was supposed to listen to a reading session from that awful reverent again. She rather receives lashes for running away than spending one minute listening to another lecture of how wilful young ladies were the worst thing on earth.

So that was how she found herself distractedly walking through town on her way to the post office with a letter for Charlotte, until a body slammed against hers, the force causing both of them to smack on the dirt road. The heavy body covered hers, arms encircling her, as if he was hugging her.

She hadn’t been hugged in so long, she silently thought.

Looking away from the ground, she spotted a rope from which a heavy giant limestone hung, just inches away from them.

It would have hit her had she not been moved aside.

This town _was_ going to be the death of her.

She looked to her left side, where she could feel a man breathing in raggedly.

‘What on earth?!’

‘Are you alright now, Miss?’

She took a moment to look down at herself as they crawled to a sitting position. There was no way Mrs. Griffiths wouldn’t notice the dirt stains, and there was no way Sidney wasn’t going to hear.

‘What is this place? Why couldn’t anyone put some kind of warning up?’

‘Well, with all due respect Miss, we did. I even tried shouting to warn ya, but ye didn’t seem to hear’, the warm accented voice said.

Her eyes travelled to the direction she’d come from. The road had been barred on both sides, a warning sign dangling from both of them, and the building site was quite visible as well. She’d simply moved to the side away from the bars to get through, and hadn’t paid any additional attention.

‘It slipped my notice.’

‘I noticed. I’m sorry I dragged ye to the ground, but as you can see, I was afraid something might’ve gone wrong if I hadn’t.’

‘No, it’s alright given the circumstances. I didn’t hear you calling.’

Both their eyes slid towards the crumpled letter in her hands.

‘Wonder if they’d still accept it’, she muttered.

‘Still looks good enough to me, name and address can still be read just fine.’

His eyes finally registered just which name they read.

‘You’re acquainted with Miss Heywood, Miss?’

‘Yes,’ she replied as she observed him with weary eyes, ‘how do you know her?’

‘We were well acquainted during her stay… not in any improper way of course’, he added as he noticed her eyes growing sharp. ‘She took an interest to my work.’

‘Saving distracted damsels?’ she asked, deciding to take pity on him after addressing him that sharply.

‘It’s a bit more boring than that. I used to design buildings. It doesn’t matter anymore, I guess. I’ve given up that dream.’

‘Sanditon has destroyed a lot of hopes and dreams this summer’, Georgiana muttered, her heart still aching slightly as she remembered her naïve dreams.

The young man gave her a troubled look, nodding as he stood and offered his hand to pull her up.

She accepted the hand and took her time to analyse his face.

‘What is your name?’

‘They call me Young Stringer… Well, I guess it’s just Stringer now. James Stringer.’

‘Did your father die recently?’

‘In the fire.’

Georgiana nodded, but the common apologies and condolences weren’t offered.

‘And your mother?’

‘She died back when I was young.’

‘A fellow orphan’, she smiled gently.

‘I’m sorry for your loss, Miss.’

‘You get used to it, though the pain never goes away. I do think however, that moving succeeded in taking my mind off of it. It kept me busy.’

James nodded, not quite convinced he’d ever get accustomed to hearing himself being addressed as Mr. Stringer and arriving to an empty home.

‘Wasn’t that hard though. If you move away from the place they lived in, saying goodbye to all those memories?’

‘It is. On the one hand I’m not confronted by the past on a daily basis which helps me to get past it, on the other hand England’s a nasty cold place… both literally and figuratively.’

‘It’s only a dreary place if you make it one, Miss. There’s a great deal of good people.’

‘There was only one good person in this entire place, and she left.’

‘Well, you don’t fear speaking your mind, Miss.’

He’d said similar words just a couple of months ago. It left an ashy taste in his mouth. The pain of her memory, so closely tied to the hope he’d lost, had barely lessened. First heartache, the other young workmen had laughed, it apparently always hurt the most. But how could it not? She was the most vibrant and lovely being he’d ever met, entirely unique… and now he’d credited another with one of her merits. He felt guilty for using words he’d spoken to her when addressing another.

‘And why shouldn’t I?’

‘I don’t mind, Miss, I really don’t. More people should. I greatly admired that in Miss Heywood as well.’

‘So did I. Escort me to the end of this traitorous street, will you?’

‘Very well, Miss.’

They walked in companionable silence. Georgiana mulling over his talk of good people and his own broken dreams. If he’d been a friend of Charlotte’s, perhaps they could fit together as friends as well, and fill the gap Charlotte’s departure had left.

Meanwhile, James fought himself to keep from prying for a while and asking information of a lady who was clearly very above him. But in the end, he missed Charlotte too much to care for propriety.

‘May I just enquire as to how she is, Miss?’

‘She’s settled in again, and her family is doing well.’

Georgiana didn’t know Charlotte’s connection to this James. So she decided to only give him the polite answer.

He wrung his hands, looking between the end of the street and the lady on his side.

‘But…’

He sighed, shaking his head.

‘How is she, personally. Is she… doing well? Herself’, he explained.

‘No, she isn’t.’

His head fell down. Georgiana eyed him with worry. They’d been good friends then, if the news of her wellbeing hit him so hard.

‘I’m sorry Miss’, he said when he noticed her expression.

‘I don’t know if I’m in a position to write to her. So I haven’t heard of her since August. But I had hoped that… well, that she’d be happy again by now. She was the epitome of optimism and hope, until that…’

He clenched his jaw shut, hands balling into fists as he swallowed the words. It wasn’t right to talk about the brother of his employer that way, especially not to a lady.

‘Until Sidney came along’, she said, voice dripping with venom.

His eyes shot to her.

She looked back, the corner of her mouth rising towards her cheekbone in a cold smile.

‘So you know about him as well. You really do know Charlotte. Good. Now I know I may talk freely. Have no fear, I consider him most insufferable and horrible. He’s responsible for her sadness and her departure. I blame him for it every time I see him. The only comfort I have is that he appears to be unhappy as well. Serves him right. He robbed me of my sole friend.’

James processed the new information, but knew not how to respond.

‘Do you know him… personally?’

‘He’s my legal guardian… neither of us are particularly happy about it’, she smirked.

Sidney Parker’s charge. The rich heiress from overseas! Miss Lambe, if he remembered her introduction at the midsummer ball correctly.

They reached the end of the street.

‘Well Miss, good luck posting the letter. And do be careful when walking back home. Should… should you write to Miss Heywood again could you send her my regards and well wishes, though you are absolutely in no way obliged, I know very well she probably isn’t waiting around for someone like me to give her a message.’

‘I shall. And I disagree. Charlotte cares for everyone, even those she shouldn’t care about. Why shouldn’t she be glad to hear of someone she’s spent time with in Sanditon? Besides, she needs and deserves all the well wishes she can get.’

‘I thank you, Miss.’

‘You know, you are horribly subservient.’

‘Just being proper and respectful Miss, I know my place.’

‘Your place, as a fellow friend of Charlotte, is next to me. I have enough people praising me for simply being wealthy and I’m sick of it. You know, it’s been months since anyone but Sidney called me Georgiana. I’d like to hear my name from someone else’s mouth from time to time.’

‘Your name? Only people who are relatives address each other on a first name basis.’

‘Or good friends. You were friends with Charlotte, that’s a seal of approval. And you said your own dreams were dashed this summer. May I propose that we with broken dreams who are both missing our friends, may share our sorrow and disdain for our common enemy?’

He couldn’t help but smile as she awaited his answer with twinkling eyes.

‘I would gladly accept, Miss Georgiana.’


	5. Arranged Marriage

‘It’s five minutes to nine’, the hostess announced. Immediately, the company grew frantic. The voices loudened and conversations quickened as everyone walked over to the couches, glasses in hand. The table was decorated with candles and glass bowls filled with feta, olives, tiny smoked sausages, cherry tomatoes and crisps.

There were only two couches, just like in most households. So all the guests were squashed together, some couples resorting to sitting on each other’s lap or taking place on the rug in front of the couch.

Some laughed, remembering their feelings and stupid acts from months ago, while others grew silent, fearful of what their spouses would think about their initial thoughts. The past couple of months, they had all prepared their other halves for what to expect of their initial thoughts and attitudes, but the prospect remained daunting.

‘Shh, it’s starting!’ Georgiana called as she pushed the volume button of the remote.

It started with a montage of nervously jumping grooms in front of closed office doors, wedding dresses being buttoned up and crying faces over a cover of Canon in D.

_“For millennia, people from all over the world have searched far and wide to find their perfect match. That one special person who would understand them, love them and spend the rest of their lives with them. We all know there are a million ways to find love, as the many apps, other romantic reality television programs and personal stories can attest._

_However, our researchers have designed this program to be the ultimate experiment: can science really determine something like the perfect match? After receiving over four thousand applications, our scientists, psychologists, sociologists and sexologists have managed to match four couples who, based on their pasts, interests and personalities, should be perfect for each other._

_Who can forget last year’s two successful matches of Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam and Jane and James? Of course, there was the surprising and shocking revelation that Anne and James Benwick and Louisa and Frederick had decided to split up and switch spouses. Yet, the fifty percent success rating the show can count on is a lot bigger than the average chances of a relationship working out._

_Five men and three women have decided that the experiment was worth it to take the ultimate leap of faith and enter a marriage with a complete stranger. Marrying a stranger picked out by others is a custom in many cultures, including ours in a not so recent past. There can be a multitude of reasons, ranging from financial reasons, to ensuring family bonds and keeping up with tradition. Our individuals have all agreed to enter matrimony on the conditions of the program. All had the chance to withdraw before the ceremony and agreed to do their bests to make it work in the weeks after. And we ensured them our psychologists and relationship coaches would support them throughout the following eight weeks. That’s right. We’ve prolonged the period of the program with an additional three weeks in which the couples would have to navigate married life. And this isn’t the only new thing this year! The couples will also get to know each other from the moment they return from their honeymoons, so they can support and encourage each other during this journey._

_But that’s enough talking, let’s meet our candidates!”_

‘Oh dear’, sighed Otis as the camera zoomed in on his figure waiting outside the civil register office, before zooming out on Otis in a black gown in a courtroom demanding justice.

_“Otis Molyneux is a thirty year old civil rights lawyer at Freeman & Sons. He loves rowing and long walks.”_

_‘I’ve been looking for years and I’m afraid I could look for ages. The world’s full of people, it’s hard to find the one. I’ve tried finding someone on my own. These people know what they’re doing, why not give them a chance to find someone for me? Either I’m out of luck and end up single again in a couple of months, or I gain a lifelong partner. It’ll take some work to get used to each other, but that’s always the case. Anyway, I won’t be off worse than before I started. What have I got to lose? It’s worth the shot. I’m curious to see if a scientific match can provide the chemistry I’m looking for.’_

‘Oh my god, you sound so cliché!’ cried Georgiana as she elbowed her husband in his side. He covered his face with a hand.

‘Well I meant it. Entering this program usually takes a certain kind of mentality. Perhaps that’s why most contestants repeat the same things year after year,’ he explained with a laugh, knowing this was the most unconventional group of contestants in the show’s history.

The show followed Otis, showing a walkthrough of a – very staged – ordinary day in his life, and his conversations with the expert team.

The next shot showed a red haired man sitting in a chair in front of a desk, waiting for the other person to come through the door to sign the wedding certificate. The images were accompanied by narration.

_‘I’ve always felt strange, never felt like I fit in. Up until now, I’ve failed to find the other piece of the puzzle. Honestly, I’m starting to lose hope that true love’s possible for me. Not that I’m unhappy with my life, but I really want to be in love and be married to someone. I want to belong.’_

The camera kept on zooming closer until only his eyes were visible. As the camera zoomed out, the man became a picture on the desk of the team of experts.

 _‘George Brown, an interesting one isn’t he?’_ a male expert asked the panel.

 _‘I do understand his difficulty finding a partner’,_ a curly haired woman remarked as she took the papers in hand.

_‘It’s obvious he’s a very relaxed, sporty and adventurous person in real life. It would be easy to match him based on that.’_

The image transitioned to George walking past oaken barrels of wine.

_‘I’m a sommelier. And I also work in the family business, I overlook these bad boys from the moment they’re grapes until the moment they’re bottled and sold… I’ve grown up in a loving family, so I never felt bad. But it’s hard as an ace gay out there, you know? There aren’t that many of us, and we’re still not as accepted by society. I’ve been lucky in that way though, I’ve always had supportive friends and I’ve never been discriminated because of it… However, finding a partner has proven difficult.’_

George took big gulps from his drink. He had never been insecure or afraid of being who he was, but to have it out on national television did frighten him. And having to talk about it that way had felt very uncomfortable. The program directors had ensured that the way it was filmed, most people would consider him heart-warming, modest and honest, but he was still somewhat nervous. His husband gently stroked his thumb up and down his hand in a comforting gesture. Looking over to his warm brown eyes, he felt somewhat comforted.

_“Our third husband is James Babington. Thirty-three years old and mainly occupied with running his estate professionally and working in the House of Lords. You heard that right, we have actual nobility in our show this year.”_

‘Did they put you in that outfit?’ Sidney mocked as the onscreen version of Babington walked away from his large manor house in the most cliché green boots and hat with a big dog circling around his feet.

James nodded, sighing before taking a sip. They had been so ecstatic they’d managed to have nobility in their program that they wanted to showcase their parade pony in the most blatant way possible, having him walk his grounds in the epitome of an aristocratic outfit. The scene changed, Vivaldi’s Spring beginning to play as everyone erupted in laughter.

‘You can’t make this shit up!’ cried Crowe as the image flowed past portrait galleries, sweeping staircases and a gilded bedroom before ending in James’ office.

Babington was just as uncomfortable now as he was back when they recorded it, and it showed as he smiled uncomfortably.

_‘I believe I’m one of the few contestants who’ll be able to say that arranged marriages played a big role in their family history. There’s been… more than a few of them down the line. Obviously, they worked out’, he laughed uncomfortably._

‘You don’t say’, huffed Georgiana as she shifted on the couch.

‘Shh’, hissed Charlotte as she looked on with a smile.

_‘My parents married for love though. And just like them, I’ve been looking to find love along the way, as I lived my life. I’m a very outgoing person I think, I enjoy spending time with friends, travelling, socialising, love a good party. But, I’m not getting any younger and dating just… it just all starts feeling the same. It’s this endless cycle of superficial dinner dates and empty conversation. I think we’re spoiled by the amount of possibilities. We always think there’s something better out there for us, we don’t try enough anymore. I want one person who agrees to just get rid of that mentality together with me as we decide to just work through whatever gets thrown on our road. I just want to walk by someone’s side forever. It doesn’t matter if it gets difficult, there will always be issues and difficulties. I still believe that with marriage, it’s a bit more difficult to walk away, you want to fight for it more. It’s a serious engagement. You’re in it together, so you want to work through things.’_

The next image was Babington overlooking a picture of his parents.

_‘I’ve had a bad habit of being too focussed on work and friends, I want to better my ways but I do want a wife who is independent and has her own life and friends. Someone who’ll understand the amount of time I put into my friends and work. But I don’t want to use it as an excuse to neglect her. I want someone to share my travels and life with, a real life partner. I admire humour, and I value honesty and open conversation above all. Those are traits I’m really looking for in a woman.’_

‘You know what they say about being careful what you wish for’, smirked the woman next to him on the couch.

‘I’m still not complaining’, he laughed.

_‘You are probably wondering where our ladies are? Well, our ladies are one of the many surprises of this season. So we shall not let you wait any longer’_ , the presenter announced.

Georgiana came into view, sitting on a couch with a big smile.

 _‘I’m Georgiana Lambe and I’m twenty-six years old, I’m a professional blogger and youtuber.’_ The camera moved to the side, focussing on an awkwardly smiling brunette.

_‘And I’m Charlotte, twenty-eight and an event organiser.’_

The camera slid past Charlotte, coming to rest on an unsmiling but very pretty face of a redhead.

_‘Esther Denham, twenty-seven, professional museum guide. And the three of us, are friends.’_

The camera zoomed out, revealing the three girls sitting together on a couch in a cosy looking living room underneath a picture of the three of them at a billiard table.

‘That’s right, our three future brides all decided to enter into this show. Never before in the history of the show have friends who enter, both gotten matched up, let alone three!’ the presenter said with an impressed voice.

A montage was shown of the girls playing games and watching television together, and eating plates of pasta as they explained their reasons to join in voiceover.

 _‘We’ve all had our fair share of disappointments with dating and relationships. We’ve all been single for at least half a year and are all looking for that “one”’,_ Georgiana explained.

 _‘Whatever “one” may mean, but we’re done with investing our time, effort and emotions in men who aren’t prepared to do the same and don’t want to commit. Now we want them to show commitment first, before we make an effort. And marriage seems like quite the commitment’,_ Esther explained.

_‘Georgiana and Otis show an eighty percent match. That’s quite strong. They’re both people who love interacting with others, enjoy the outdoors and enjoy a good party. They’re both very open and direct. They could be perfectly suited. However, Georgiana has made clear that her biggest worry is, since she comes from an important family, that she feels as if she isn’t taken use of. She also strongly values honesty. Otis has admitted to us he had a gambling problem in the past, these problems usually come along with spending money unwisely, and addiction comes hand in hand with lying. However, he says it has been a long time ago, and he is still going to counselling. So as long as it is regulated, it shouldn’t be a problem.’_

_‘Our second match will be Esther and James. They both have quite a similar family history they can bond over. They also share a lot of common interests.’_

_‘They’re very different though, aren’t they, personality wise?’_

_‘Yes, he is very open, honest, positive and feels very comfortable with who he is. I’d say he’s a bit further than Esther, she’s very closed off and quite mistrusting. However, she’s would need someone like him to draw her out of her shell. But she’s very honest, confident and independent herself, all qualities he was looking for. They both know themselves well and they have a lot of potential’,_ another panel member explained.

_‘Yes, and look at their score, an ninety-five percent match. The highest we’ve ever seen!’_

_‘The members of the expert panel are very excited about these two, but there are still two more couples to match and two more people to introduce. Let’s meet the last couple of candidates, another Married at First Sight novelty!’_ the presenter excitedly told the viewers as he pressed the bell in an apartment building.

Tense music played as the camera crew walked through a foyer and stepped into an elevator, exiting at the highest level: it was a penthouse overlooking London. One man was sat on a couch, and the silhouette of another was visible against the gorgeous skyline.

The one in the couch jumped upright. He was quite a chubby man, with a thick head of curls and a jovial smile.

_‘Arthur Parker?’_

The man shook the hand of the presenter as the tall broad-shouldered man standing near the window turned around and nodded. There could no better introduction to their respective personalities than having Sidney brooding in the distance while his brother enthusiastically greeted the presenters.

_‘We have some news for the two of you, perhaps we could sit down?’_

Sidney and Arthur sat down on the broad and comfortable couch which was chosen with the distinct consideration of people being able to sleep in it.

_‘It is my pleasure to announce that a match has been found for the both of you.’_

Arthur’s mouth dropped open, while Sidney’s eyebrows rose before he silently nodded.

 _‘Perhaps you could call your family together’,_ the presenter joked.

Arthur took his phone, immediately dialling their brother.

_‘Tom, you’ll never believe what they’ve just told us – Tom is our brother – we’ve both been matched and will be in Married at First Sight!’_

_‘No way! Where and when will the weddings be?’_

_‘We don’t know yet. Can we choose that?’_ Arthur asked the presenter who nodded in confirmation.

_‘We can choose!’_

_‘You have to do it in Sanditon!’_ his brother cried.

 _‘It can be this amazing event!’_ Tom pressed.

Sidney managed not to roll his eyes, leave it to his brother, the person in charge of tourism in Sanditon, to use the publicity to his own benefit. This, was why he was quite done with his family. He wanted someone who would choose his side, and listen to him. Someone who didn’t know him and wouldn’t ask favours of him. Someone who would just be in it for him, and not everything he could bring to the table.

 _‘Don’t tell too many people just yet, but do tell Mary and the kids, and send them our regards!’_ Arthur exclaimed before hanging up.

 _‘How are these two brothers – yes they are brothers indeed! Our first pair of brothers on the show - feeling?’_ asked the presenter.

_‘Thrilled! It’s so exciting. Isn’t this exciting Sid?’_

_‘Yes, I’m very curious’_ , smiled Sidney. He managed to throw a convincing smile to the camera.

The image changed as Sidney was introduced working as a very important agent for acting agency, running to meetings and award shows. He was also shown going to a bar with his friend Jack Crowe and going on a run.

The experts explained, with a table covered with hundreds of files of potential candidates between them, how Charlotte and Sidney could be a good match. Both enjoyed adventure, travelling and sports. Both also professed a love for children, literature and philosophy. It was found that where they differed in character, her being open while he was closed off, her being trusting while he was guarded, and her looking on the bright side while he focussed on the bad things, would be a good thing, as they could teach each other things and balance each other out in the same way as Esther and Babington would.

The last match was introduced as being between Arthur and George, both being gay and on the ace spectrum, both being extroverted, enjoying life, food, travel and parties and being very in touch with themselves and open and understanding of others.

All matches were presented on the television, showing head shots of all four couples as the presenter narrated how the show would look. The second part of the show tonight was spent on the ladies buying their dresses and the men buying their suits.

Following those fragments was a montage to get the watchers excited about the upcoming season.

Moving beds, hesitant kisses, group dinners and fragments of their exotic holidays were shown, followed by suspenseful clips of the couples arguing.

‘Is that truly what you think of me?’

‘How much easier my life would’ve been if-‘

‘Can we not rewrite our history?’

‘And what do you know of love?’

‘This is ridiculous.’

‘Well, what is it to me? Since I don’t like you.’

‘You’re a fool.’

‘Well, I didn’t choose you!’

‘I don’t care!’

‘You lied to me! How could you?’

Though everything had been sorted out in the end, the couples were silenced by the images. They had successfully reopened months old wounds and reminded the contestants of the rocky paths they’d been on leading up to the present day. They’d known the program would film a lot, and they’d known when the camera’s were present, but right now, if given the choice, they’d bury all of it so no one would know what they’d been through.

‘Well, that was that for this week’, Georgiana smiled. She put off the television and pulled Otis out.

‘Come on, it’s over, you bunch of sour faces. What is filmed is in the past, it’s fine.’

Otis bit his lip, glad she couldn’t see the doubt on his face as he stood next to her. He’d relapsed once, which had put a severe strain on their relationship. If they hadn’t been married. If he hadn’t had the counselling before and during the show, and a relationship therapist provided by the show, he wasn’t sure if they would’ve pulled through.

‘They’re gonna hate us’, Charlotte sighed before standing up.

‘Do we care? They’re just nobodies living through someone else they see on their television’, Sidney comforted her. ‘We participated to find love, but who are the types of people watching this show anyways? Do we care for their opinion? Will they remember us in a year?’

‘Those people could recognise us everywhere. In the cinemas, in grocery stores, in the streets’, Esther explained. ‘And no doubt they’ll be able to find our social media. I can only be grateful that the show not only allows but even forces us to keep our social media completely closed off’, Esther sighed.

‘Sid’s right dear and so are you, it’ll be a hard couple of months and maybe a year, but they’ll forget about us’, Babington smiled as he took Esther’s hand.

‘Unless we use the show to launch a reality soap career like some previous contestants’, tried Arthur with a smile.

‘Revolting idea’, George huffed before throwing his arms around his lover.

They shared another couple of drinks, before heading to their homes. They’d managed to push away the invasive thoughts for a few hours more, but as soon as they arrived home, the thoughts were right back in the heads of some.

‘You’re brooding.’

‘Like you’re one to talk.’

‘Indeed I am one to talk, I’m the absolute authority on brooding. You’re stealing my thing. Care to explain why?’

‘Nothing’, Charlotte huffed as she pulled at the laces of her black boots. She’d put on a nice and dainty black and red flower dress, but that had been the extent of girliness that could be expected of her, but Sidney didn’t mind. At least he’d never have to carry her home because she’d put on impractical shoes.

‘Well,’ Charlotte sighed, unable to pretend to feel nothing when she did feel a lot, ‘it’s just that tonight’s episode got me thinking again. We’ve been able to convince the showrunners to take out some of our worst fights but… It isn’t going to be pretty you know? And mother, father, gran, aal my siblings, my colleagues, everyone will be able to see it. And it’s so unfair. Because… Well, that’s not us anymore, is it? But nobody will know that until weeks from now. They will all think we’re going to be a failure for months. And all those things I said, oh god, all those moments when I just wasn’t thinking, throwing everything to you without a thought.’

She hadn’t noticed him approaching her through her blurred eyes until a pair of shiny black shoes stood right between her legs. He bent down, taking both of her small hands in his. His golden ring shimmered brightly in the living room light.

‘But we know. And we’ll tell anyone who asks. We can’t send a message out to the world, but we can spread the truth.’

‘That’s also the truth. I really said those things. I’ve changed so much since then. It’s like I’m barely the same person. Looking back I barely know what I was thinking anymore.’

‘Hey, Heywood, I’ve said things too. Bad things, horrible things even. We’ve both fucked up. We’ve both gotten each other wrong. We disobeyed the advice of openly and honestly talking through things. I was closed off, and made you suspicious and thus allowed you to carry on with wrong ideas about me, you jumped to conclusions. Our bad behaviour enforced the other’s bad behaviour. We’ve evolved. We’ve grown. That’s what we were intended to do. We’ve become better people because of each other, despite the fights. And we’re still together and in love, despite the fact that we both remember those fights. Maybe the public will come to understand and appreciate us through it all, like we got to appreciate and value each other?’

Charlotte nodded as his warm thumb brushed away a tear escaping the corner of her eye.

‘We’re such a mess.’

‘I think we’re doing great. Don’t you?’

Charlotte nodded, throwing her arms around his neck. He quickly lifted her, carrying her towards the bedroom.

He didn’t really mind carrying the little woman, actually.

‘I wish there was something we could do for them’, Arthur sighed.

‘I get it. But how? We can only be there for them, and hold our arms open if they seek support in case the press and show fans do decide to bother them’, George replied as he handed his husband a cup of chamomile tea. It was one of their evening rituals before bed.

‘I know. But Georgie’s really worried. She thinks she’s going to be ruined, both in the eyes of her acquaintances and in the eyes of potential future employers.’

‘She’s scared, I get that. But of all people, Georgiana has the biggest chances of this not only turning out fine but great even for her job’, George sighed. ‘We can only hope for the best as we await the reactions.’

‘Straight people, they always get themselves in such a mess’, Arthur laughed, but there was no honesty or genuine joy behind his smile.

‘It’s something that comes along with the program, we all knew that before we even entered our names. We’re all a bit scared right now, rightfully so, but there’s no way to predict how people will react, we’ll just have to wait and see. It’s entirely possible that the public will love us all.’

‘I certainly hope so.’

‘I do loved having everyone over, but I don’t like cleaning at all’, laughed Otis as he put the large gin glasses in the dishwasher.

‘Me neither’, Georgiana replied as she stretched in the living room. She’d quickly taken off her tight dress and had replaced it with a short black satin nightgown. Otis stopped loading the dishwasher to look at his wife as she stood in front of the television, looking at some old movie as she rubbed her makeup off with a cotton pad. She was breathtakingly gorgeous.

He’d been incredibly drawn to her from the second he saw her walking down the aisle. They’d definitely gotten along splendidly from the first second, their bonding process quickened by their mutual physical attraction. They shared a lot of opinions as well. But because they’d started off well, they’d never had to learn to work and have discussions together. So when their first fight had rolled around, it had been thunder and lightning. Two hot heads with a penchant for self-pity and self-righteousness were horrible together in a fight. In the end, after the fight, he’d called Sidney and Babington, both having experienced their fair share of marital problems. One who had been in a lot of fights as well, and one who’d been on the receiving end of a couple of tantrums and mood swings. Their advice had managed to guide him through the initial fight, before they got to sit down with the members of the expert panel.

‘Good thing you don’t have to then’, he smiled.

‘Hey, I put the olives back in the fridge!’

He shook his head. Yes, she’d done that after waving everyone goodbye and before changing into her nightclothes, the bowls filled with other snacks and all the glasses and empty beer bottles though, that had been done by him. But he didn’t mind, he had enough energy.

‘So, you enjoyed tonight?’ he asked instead. She nodded before yawning. He put the last couple of glasses in the dishwasher and started the program.

‘Tired?’

‘Yeah.’ She tried to cover her yawn with her hand, but she didn’t completely succeed. Blinking at him with sleepy eyes as he approached, she threw her arms around him, nestling her face against his chest.

‘Was- ‘ She yawned again. ‘Fun’, she finished with a small smile.

‘You’re a cute one, you know?’

‘Cute? I’m not cute. I’m dangerous.’

‘Right you are, little princess. I’m going to brush my teeth. You gotta?’

‘No, already did that.’

‘Join you in bed in five?’

‘To sleep?’ she asked, her eyes twinkling despite her obvious tiredness.

‘To sleep or to _sleep_. Let’s see’, he shrugged before pressing a kiss on her forehead.

She gave him a broad smile before softly pressing her lips against his.

‘Let’s see’, she agreed before walking to the bedroom.

‘Something is bothering you, my girl?’ James asked as he brushed Esther’s hair in what had become a nightly ritual for the two of them. She sat in the middle of the bed between his legs, her own crossed beneath the duvet she was currently playing with.

Her hair still held the scent of her potent perfume. Blackberry, sweet honey, mellow tuberose and intoxifying wood and patchouli drew his nose forward until his head rested against hers.

He gently laid half of her curls over her shoulders, bringing his arms around her to start brushing her tresses from the front. Her head ever so softly leaned back against his as she welcomed his warm bare arms against around her own. His hand smoothed down the curls against her left breast, softly stroking the underlying skin as well.

‘Tonight just brought all those thoughts back. It’s nothing short of a miracle you stuck around. No doubt the watchers will not be as excessively tolerant. Who can listen to what I said to you and not be disgusted?’

‘Calm down, it’ll be fine. You never cared for the opinion of others, why start now?’

‘We’re married. It affects you too. People who know you will see you on the television, and see what type of monster you married.’

‘You’re no monster’, he laughed softly.

‘You were the perfect husband for the program. Open, loving, understanding. Meanwhile I couldn’t do anything but be sarcastic and distant the first couple of weeks.’

‘You had a hard time adjusting, a hard time learning to trust someone with your heart. I’m sure many will be able to relate.’

‘You’re hopelessly soft. Are you even capable of negative thoughts and feelings?’

‘Well, I did get close to despair and sadness a few times, but never bad thoughts about others. Well, not the last couple of years, at least. And especially not concerning you, dear. But really Esther, you shouldn’t care what they say. We don’t know them, they don’t know us. And all they know of us is based on the ten minutes they see us on the television the next seven weeks. What we think about ourselves and each other, what our friends and real acquaintances think, that’s what matters. We know the truth, we know who we are and how we feel. We know if our relationship is good. Their opinions are irrelevant.’

He finished brushing the final part of her hair and put the comb away, before bringing his hands back to her chest.

‘I can’t believe I’m going to have to prove a reality show can do good’, Esther sighed as she pushed her breasts up. Babington gladly took the hint and slid his hands down until they covered her breasts.

‘Well, I’m glad. Without it, I’d never have met you. And after having known you for a couple of months, I know I would have borne months of you not being in love with me and taking out your insecurities and past experiences on me. It would have been worth it. I don’t mind that I had to make an effort for you.’

‘I feel the complete opposite’, Esther exclaimed mysteriously.

James nuzzled her neck, pressing his lips against the tender pale flesh. The perfume smelled even stronger at her pulse point. He knew that if he’d bite down, it would leave the most awful taste in his mouth, yet her neck was incredibly enticing.

‘Oh?’

‘If I would have known, I wouldn’t have bothered ever keeping you at a distance. Wouldn’t have wasted any time. We could have spent that time doing _so_ many better things instead.’

‘Oh, what kind of things, Lady Babington?’

‘Hmm’, she sighed as she pretended to think of a couple of things.

Babington bit down in her neck and she gasped.

‘Unspeakable things. Things unsuited for cable television. Perhaps it’s a good thing for them I sabotaged our relationship at first. Otherwise, they would have been stuck filming a closed door eight weeks on end.’

‘I wouldn’t have minded’, he laughed before pulling her down on the sheets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be a (very) long fic, but in the end I'm keeping it short. I have long WIPs I should be working on, and I've got a long EstherxBabington fic ahead about the time between their engagement and their wedding, so this is where Sanditon Valentine will end for me. It's also been quite busy, I had exams, I'm stopping my Educational Master and am enrolling in a Diplomacy Master. Hope you still enjoyed reading my entries, despite their shortness!
> 
> xxx


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